Went out on a fishing boat in the Black Sea. The old Bulgarian beer was pretty heavy and had a few the night before.
Needed to go and asked if they had a toilet, they pointed over the side. Tried to explain it was a turd that was coming and they laughed and and still pointed overboard.
Dived in and dropped one in the sea. Pretty weird trying to tread water at the same time.

Went on a 2 week walk through Knoydart once, living off Raven freeze dried ration packs that had been stashed along the route by Landy.

First morning all the expedition members disappeared behind a wall with the entrenching tool and all came back with a puzzled look on their faces. When my turn came the reason became clear... what started out as a healthy shiny length of brown cable suddenly faded mid-length to bright flourescent green, which it remained for the rest of the fortnight. No idea why.

Outdoor men pooh anywhere all the time. My question though is - whenever using whatever is to hand to wipe the "area" down, do you worry about ticks, and if so, do you ask a friend, partner,relation to check. And if said tick is in an awkward position (the tick as well as your "partner") how do you remove the blighter? - the tick that is!

My experience was as a self-conscious 17 year-old Venture Scout spending the night camping next to Red Tarn at the summit of Helvellyn.

Didn't really know what the done thing was, so I went and rolled over a boulder and set about obliterating the spiders nest under there. Only once I was sprouting a hefty fifth appendage did a helicopter full of Japanese tourists pop up over Striding Edge and start snapping away...cue involuntary pinching off blade action and a nasty clean up job...

Heard the army trick is to vaseline up yourself before going, makes your arse non-stick apparently.

Totally scenic one by Strathchallech up by Cape Wrath. Me solo, could see for miles (to the horizon) in all directions. Not a soul in sight. Peat bog is easy to dig as well. Realized the source of the expression "going to the bog". Wet ones FTW!

To those doing passive-aggressive dumps in grouse butts - remember it is likely to be the hard working game keeper that has to go clean up your turd, not the 'toff' (more likely an American businessman in any case, bringing money and jobs to the rural economy and helping maintain the wild countryside from over-development etc etc).

Numerous when running - including one in Germany which made me rather nervous

The most memorable was when I was running on quiet-ish roads beside the Seine in Paris a couple of years ago. Became desperate and was plotting how I could use benches when I saw a tennis club that was open. The most welcome French toilet ever.

Now I always try to evacuate before leaving as I only seem to run in London

During the ascent of Scafell Pike via Lingmell, beautiful views down Wasdale. First half was like a toffee crisp, second half was very different, like a smooth pine cone. I have pictures but I suspect that may lead to a ban.

The question about ticks reminded me:
Many years ago, in the wettish season in Nepal, in the rhodedendron forests. The damp ground was swarming with smallish leeches, which were attracted by the early wafts of gas as I (or we) dropped our trousers and prepared to poo. You could see the little buggers looping towards our backsides as we dumped: the leaf-litter looked alive. We had to squat, drop a little, shuffle a couple of feet away to avoid the leeches, & repeat. If we'd dropped our cheeks too close to the ground, one of the blighters would have crawled up. It has been known...